


Realization

by linzclair219



Series: The Song of Sonny and Rafael [1]
Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Domestic, Established Relationship, M/M, No Smut, Secret Relationship, Secrets, ages may be a little off, no particular episode referenced
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-11-09 23:36:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11115264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/linzclair219/pseuds/linzclair219
Summary: Sonny and Rafael are a sweet couple. It's a shame only two other people know about their relationship.Mildly generic, but still enjoyed writing. This work is completed. A new chapter will be added every ten kudos, or every five comments. First part of a (probably three part) series.Formerly known as What (Next to) Nobody Knows





	1. An Average Evening

The green digital clock on the oven reads out 1:17 when Sonny Carisi steps through his front door. The door is treated with care, trying to keep the knob quiet when it turns, and holds the door up so it doesn't squeak.

  
It still feels like he's keeping his entrance a secret. Never mind that this place has been his for as long as it's been Rafael's. Seven months and counting.

  
Rafael, who Sonny is hoping is home by now. And he's not disappointed when he finds Rafael laid out on the brown leather sofa left over from his old apartment, with a wash cloth over his eyes. Sonny slips his shoes off at the door and makes his way to older man, only sparing a half glance at the empty scotch glass on their (really Sonny's old) coffee table. He takes Rafael's hand, which closes around his own and squeezes. The other hand pulls the wash cloth from his eyes.

  
"Hey."

"Hey." Sonny's voice is low. "You been home long?"

  
"Ten minutes, maybe" the older man answers and pushes himself upright. "I think the new barista gave me decaf."

  
That explains the headache. "You eat?"

"Not yet. I'm not hungry."

"Stop it, I'll fix you something."

"You're going to cook something out of your grandmother's recipe book this late? You might as well make me breakfast." It's a dull barb, telling Sonny just how exhausted he is.

"How about I just warm you up something? Can you live with that?"

"I can live with that." He agrees, and let's go of Sonny's hand so he can do just that. Sure enough, there's a container of stuffed shells that takes up half of the bottom shelf in the fridge. Sonny still makes his regular portions, even though there's only ever two of them. Or, maybe four. Well, three and a half, because portion wise Noah can't be considered a whole person.

  
Fifteen minutes later, after Sonny decided on using the over and not the microwave, two plates are on the table. Rafael makes his way in, and sips from the glass of water for him on the table.

  
They don't talk. Forks scrape against their plates and there's the occasional sip. It's not until their plates are clean that Rafael speaks.

  
"How's Rollins?"

  
"She's good. Jesse's good. Sweetest little bug you ever met. I swear, I'm sure that kid knows she's got me in the palm of her hand."

  
"I doubt it. But still, that's an image."

  
Sonny chuckles. "You should see her though. Hell, she'd own you too."

  
“Oh, that I seriously doubt." And they both laugh, quietly.

  
"No? You're so sure about that? Those sound like fightin' words, counselor."

  
"I'm not going to have a fight with a baby. Just you. Same difference, I suppose."

  
That earns him a light kick, and another laugh. Really, it's quite a sweet secret.

  
"So your phone died?" Sonny asks with a new seriousness.

  
"What? Oh, no, it was going to and I left it charging. I'm sorry I didn't see those earlier."

Sonny nods. He can't be mad at that.

"I hope you didn't worry."

He shrugs. "Just...you know, since you were threatened, I just want to be sure. You know."

"I do." Barba nods. He's still mad at himself for handing out his address, and endangering Sonny that way. If something happened to Sonny, and it was his fault...

"Rafe?" Sonny breaks his thoughts, making Barba look up.

"Sorry. Did you say something?"

"Just asking if you're okay. You're a little out of it."

"My head hurts. Thinking too much, I suppose."

“Oh, so like usual."

Sonny laughs at his own joke, but Barba just puffs a half-laugh out of his nose.

“Okay, seriously, you’re holdin’ out on me. Somethin’s up. Won’t you tell me?” Sonny presses.

The older man looks at Sonny- all blue eyes, worry filling his face- and hedges for a moment.

“Just how I started my day. Not all that great.”

“You sure about that?” Sonny’s head tilts, and Barba can’t help thinking he looks like a puppy. “Thought I felt you clinging onto me when I woke up.”

“I had a nightmare. You know how that goes.”

“Nightmare? About what?”

Rafael sighs. “If I tell you, you’ll stop pestering me?”

“Yeah, sure, now what’s this all about?”

“You know how people were threatening my life. Still are.” He looks at his hands while he talks, rather quickly in spite of his pounding head. “I had a nightmare that I came home, found you dead in the most graphic way my mind could dream up.”

He looks at Sonny, and his face is as open and obvious as ever. His face is creased in angst, and he looks whiter than usual. Somehow.

“Liv is right.” Rafael continues. “You can’t take this job home with you. Looking at case files before you go to sleep, it’s a poor idea.”

“Okay, you listen to me Rafe.” His voice is stern, and it shakes the old man. His thin frame moves from the seat across the table from him, to the one next to him. His thin fingers wrap around his older boyfriend’s hand. “First off, no way that’s ever happening. None of these fucking creeps have the balls to really kill you, no matter what they’re paid.”

Barba looks at him, and it unnerves him how hard Sonny is looking at him. “And second off, I’d shoot anybody who tried breaking in here, you know I would. And I’ve got the people downstairs making sure they don’t let in anyone suspicious. Put the fear of God” he crosses himself with his free hand “into em. And you need to tell me when shit like that pops into your head.”

“So I can get this treatment?”

“Don’t be funny right now, this is some serious shit.”

“…okay.”

“That’s right, okay.” His voice softens, and so does his grip on Barba’s hand. “So, you know, you gotta tell me when something’s happening like that. You gotta tell me. I can’t have you pushin’ me away. Okay?”

“Okay.” Barba nods. “Okay, I can do that.”

“Good.” His arms tangle around Barba, holding him vice tight.

Rafael holds onto him, breathing in the smell of Sonny’s faded cologne mixed with his hair gel. It’s a familiar, comfortable scent. It’s been home for over a year.

Barba’s head throbs, making him dredge up this morning’s memories. He’d do anything to take back that moment when he bluffed, and handed out their home address. Anything, if it meant protecting his real home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Entries are lightly edited.  
> Names are inconsistent in use.  
> Constructive criticism is appreciated.  
> If someone could tell me how to use HTML to make this story double spaced as well as how to indent, please let me know.  
> EDIT: Thank you for the helpful formatting comments!


	2. A Quiet Dinner

It’s rare that both of them are home for dinner together before midnight. But they knew that’s how it would be. It’s how their jobs work, and for better or worse they’ve accepted it. Rafael expects to find Sonny home first, like he usually is on these rare nights. He’s taken aback when their apartment isn’t filled with the smell of something stereotypically Italian cooking in the oven, and their TV isn’t showing a replay of a Mets game. He closes their door, and goes about making himself comfortable.

Still, he’s startled when, just as he’s coming back into the living room, he hears the doorknob jiggling. For a split second, he wishes he had Sonny’s off duty revolver.

Sonny, who steps through the door, bags in tow. A smile breaks over his face when he sees Barba.

“Ah, what is this now? Like, the fourth day in a row you beat me home?” He closes the small space between them.

“Something like that. But again, not by much.”

“Good, good, glad to know you’re not sitting alone, pining away over me. I just had to pick something up. Check this out.” He sets a grocery bag down on the coffee table and untucks a brown paper bag from his arm, and hands it to Rafael, who gives him a wary look.

“What’s this?”

“I promise, you’ll get a kick outta this, just open it.”

He reaches into the bag, then laughs when he sees what it is. It’s a picture from last Christmas. One that Rafael’s mother had snapped with almost no warning. They’re both wearing ugly sweaters, and Sonny’s is the same orange-blue combination that too many of his clothes are in for Rafael’s taste. He’s also holding up a bottle of cheap beer with the arm that isn’t wrapped around Rafael’s shoulders.

“I can’t believe you spent money to get this picture printed.”

“Printed _and_ framed. Say whatever you want about me, but I ain’t cheap.” He plucks the picture from his hands and pecks his lips, then plants it on their mantel alongside a few other pictures of them. But this one is definitely the most relaxed. It’s out of character. For Barba, anyway.

“That wouldn’t have been my next choice for our carefully curated collection.”

“Yeah, well, it was mine. Besides, it’s unique. Unique is good, ain’t it?” Sonny elbows him lightly. “Sides, all the rest of em were boring. Anyway.” Barba gets another peck on the lips, and then Sonny is off to the kitchen, taking the groceries with him. And, soon enough, their little home is filled with the smell of something good, probably bubbling with cheese and covered in red sauce. The same homemade sauce that there’s fifteen more jars of in their pantry.

“You want scotch or wine with dinner?” Sonny yells over the TV, which is playing reruns of Friends.

“Wine, thanks.” Rafael says back in less of a yell, more just raised speaking. That’s his signal to come to the table. Rafael turns down their TV and goes to their kitchen, where two plates are waiting for them. Manicotti, today. And probably the next three or four days.

They sit in silence while they eat, for today at least. Rafael loves seeing Sonny talk because he talks with his body. His hands wave, his head shakes, he shuffles his feet, his hips bump from side to side, punctuating his words. That trait of his has cost them two rugs from spills, along with a couple glasses, a fan when his foot got tangle up in the chord, and a lamp. Rafael likes the way Sonny takes up so much space, and how he forgets how big he is. But while they eat now, they’re just quiet, enjoying their time together.

Rafael remembers the nightmare that woke him the day before. It’s still there in pieces. He remembers how their apartment was distorted, with the walls being dark green instead of beige. He remembers how the living room was flipped. And…and he remembers, how he’d found Sonny, laid face down in the middle of their living room, in a pool of his own blood. And how, on his left ring finger, was a simple silver band.

The real hand, Sonny’s actual hand, rests on the table, next to a half empty glass of white wine. Without a ring. But still attached to a living person.

Rafael places his fork down, and he reaches over to take Sonny’s hand. A pair of blue eyes fix on him, and he meets them, but he doesn’t say anything. And Sonny doesn’t speak either. He wraps his hand around his lover’s and gives it a firm squeeze. He doesn’t miss the way Rafael’s thumb strokes over his ring finger, or the way he looks afraid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, but it's meant to be. Glad to see you guys responded so well.


	3. A Very Late Night

“Come on Rafe, pick up your damn phone.”

Carisi looks at the oven clock, just to be sure his phone is right about the time 2:47 a.m. Both the phone and the oven corroborate each other’s story. His heart squeezes against his chest, and stares at his phone, waiting for the message to go to read. But it stays at delivered.

2:50

Still no word. No change.

3:00

He can’t wait anymore. He picks up his phone and calls him, and hugs himself with his other arm. “Come on, pick up, pick up, pick up.”

One ring turns into two, then three, and four, until it goes to voicemail.

Fuck, Sonny thinks.

“ADA Rafael Barba, leave a message and your contact information, or call my office directly.”

His voice sounds distorted over the phone, Sonny thinks. He swallows and finds his words.

“Hey, Rafe, it’s me. Um, you’re not answering your phone, and it’s late. Y’know, you’ve been letting me know when you’ll be late recently. I just wanna make sure you’re ok. Call me, okay? Call me back. Or text, whatever.”

He hangs up and checks his texts again. But they’re still on delivered.

3:10

“Hey, it’s me again. Listen, don’t worry about picking up food or whatever if you’re already on your way. Just come right home. I’ve got some stuff I could put in the oven, if you’re hungry. Or we could order in, whatever, you know this city never sleeps and you can always find somewhere to order from. You know, if you’re sick of my cooking.” His laugh is forced. “So, get back to me.”

3:20

Now he’s seriously contemplating calling Barba’s office. He’s wondering if he can get away with calling. Can he handle leaving a voice mail? No. Better not. The messages are still unread. So he calls. Again.

“Hey, um, listen, I know I’m sounding a little nuts now. But just let me know if you’re on your way so I can go to bed. I was gonna go in early or whatever. Fuck it, just tell me if you’re on your way or-“

He’s cut off by keys jingling, and the door unlatching. He’s frozen for a second, imagining the worst- someone hired mugged him, stole his keys, and is coming to rob the place- why the hell would he give out their home address like that?

But it’s nothing like that. It’s just Rafael. Sonny drops his phone and strides over to him, his arms enveloping the smaller man.

“Sonny, what are you-“

“Where’ve you been?” Sonny mutters against his hair. “Where’s your phone? Why’re you so late.”

“I’m…sorry.” Rafael relaxes into his tight grip and lets his own arms wrap around him. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Sonny’s thick voice is muffled by his hair. He squeezes Barba tight for a few more seconds, only to let go and look him over.

“I’m fine.” Barba tells him.

“Good. Good, stay that way.” He reaches over and locks the door, and puts on the chain too. “You hungry or something?”

“You sound like my mother.” He deadpans, but Sonny doesn’t laugh. “No, I’m okay. I ate while I worked.”

“Did you lose your phone or something? I’ve been calling and texting like nuts.”

“I’m sorry, I haven’t had my phone in my pocket, it’s in my bag-“

“Keep it in your pocket now…okay?”

“Okay.”

“No, don’t placate me, say it like you mean it.”

Rafael takes a breath and holds himself tall. “I’ll keep my phone in my pocket. And I’ll let you know when I’m working late. Are we done?”

“Yeah, I think so. C’mon, let’s get you into bed, I have to be up in a few hours.”

“You get some sleep, I can handle a shower.”

“Alright. You’re not gonna get lost on me again, are you?”

“I’d say I’ll have my phone on me, but I don’t think I’ll have pockets.”

Sonny laughs, even with the rock still weighing on his chest. He’s still awake when Rafael comes out of the bathroom, dressed in his pajamas. Hair still damp, Barba climbs into bed and shuts off the light. Sonny pulls him close in the darkness, holding him so Barba’s head rests on his chest. He touches the smaller man, stroking his hair. Still, even with him laid over his own body, he feels something lodged in his lungs, or his heart.

“Rafe?” He asks into the darkness.

“Yes?” His voice is still very much awake.

“You really scared me today. I thought someone had hurt you.”

“I know. I’m so sorry I put you through that. Believe me, it won’t happen again.”

“I do believe you. But something’s been bugging me, now that I think about it more.”

“What’s bothering you?”

He sighs and pushes a hand back through his hair. “I dunno. Just don’t cross examine me while I try to get this out, alright?”

He waits a beat. “Fine. Talk.”

“So, while I was going nuts looking for you, I thought about calling your office. But I know, Carmen is the one that gets your messages. And it freaked me out, thinkin’ I might leave a freakout message for her to find in the morning. I was getting’ so panicked, I’m pretty sure I would’ve started yelling or whatever.”

“So what’re you trying to tell me?”

“That you’re not out and I’m not out. And maybe, for stuff like this, it would be easier. But, y’know, how are we supposed to do that? Without fucking up a whole lot of stuff?”

“I knew this was coming. It’s been over a year.”

“A year and a half, about.” A beat of silence. “How do we figure this out then?”

“Couple different ways. But, the way we are now, just talking. Talk until we figure this out.”

It strikes Sonny how calm he is about this.

“Just talk?”

“Yes. Talk.” He pauses. “You start.”

“I worry, what it would mean for us at work. I know Liv knows, she takes care of things so there’s never conflict of interest or whatever. But if the other detectives knew, I’m not so sure how they’d take it.”

“You don’t think they’d understand?”

“Hey, they’re a compassionate bunch, don’t get me wrong, but they can’t ignore that we’re together. They’d think something, it could cause problems without them even realizing it.”

“I don’t know you’re right about that.”

“Alright, lets table that for the moment. What about you and your work?”

“What about it?”

“People don’t know now. But once they know, don’t you think all the defense lawyers will try using it against you?”

“Using my own sexuality against you? You think that little of defense attorneys?”

“Oh come on, you can’t see- what, Buchanan maybe? Next time he thinks it’s convenient asking ‘before you answered that really damning question, did you you know that ADA Rafael Barba is a ‘mo?”

“Don’t say that.”

“Well he wouldn’t say it that way, but I’m just sayin’. Your job is hard enough without that.”

“I can hold my own, even with mud slingers like Buchanan. You know that. What else?”

“My parents.”

The darkness goes quiet. Rafael knows about Sonny’s ‘good Catholic’ parents. How they feel about ‘mo’s and ‘fags’ and all that.

“Your parents.” Rafael repeats, and finds his hand in the darkness. “Your parents, you’re positive they wouldn’t understand?”

“I’m positive they wouldn’t. With the amount of talk they used to do-“

“Wouldn’t it be different with you? Because you’re their son? Their only son?”

“My dad would be pissed, my mom would go on about how she ‘doesn’t have a son anymore’ probably, something melodramatic like that.”

This is how it goes. Their conversation goes in circles, and wavers between ‘it wouldn’t be that big a deal’ to ‘it would blow up our lives.’ Somewhere around the third, or maybe it’s the fourth mention, of Rafael’s job, things get heated. A light gets turned on so they can look at each other. And then they’re out of bed, and then their conversation gets the volume turned up.

“I’d have no credibility! People would assume I slept with you to get where I am! Fuck it, I’d be done before I ever started.”

“Why do you care?” Barba shoots back, turning away from the window he’s been staring out of.

“I don’t care. I don’t give a fuck about what people think of me. But you’ve said it yourself, this is a reputation business. And don’t tell me it wouldn’t matter to yours, because you know it would. Hell, they’d think you’re a guy who goes around sleeping with fresh faced detectives.”

“That’s a load and you know it. Who could possibly think that?”

“Because people are stupid, I guess. I dunno!”

“That’s your argument? That people are stupid?”

Sonny pushes a hand through his hair. “Honestly?”

“It’s a very poor argument! Most of the people we work with are bright, intelligent, and know when to back off.”

“Oh my God” he exclaims, and shakes when he gesticulates at Barba. “Why are you cross examining me?”

“Because you’re making no sense!”

“Me!? You’re the one who said just before that telling my parents was a bad idea!”

“Because you were the one who said that they could never understand you. If you’re worried about them hating you, maybe it’s not a good idea!”

“Okay, so, your idea is that we tell SVU and- that’s it?”

“I don’t know what I’m saying! I’m just trying to figure this out as much as you are.” Barba tries, and pulls his hair.

“So, what?” Sonny asks. His accent seems to thicken when he talks again. “What? What now?”

“I don’t know!” Barba snaps, and those words shut Sonny up because those are three words he’s never heard Barba say before. The natural light is starting to steam in, competing with the lamp light. It makes Rafael look that much worse. Sonny sighs and looks at the clock in their bedroom. 6:30a.m. . Sonny has to get ready. He looks at Barba, waiting for him to say something, but he doesn’t. So Sonny sighs and goes off to the walk-in closet, then goes to the bathroom. He’s waiting. He’s waiting for Barba to come in and say he knows what to do. Or that he’s…sorry? Maybe? Or that he wants to work things out, so Sonny shouldn’t go to work just yet. But when Sonny comes out of the bathroom, Barba is sat cross legged on their unmade bed, chin in hand, staring at the wall. He should probably be getting ready too, when Sonny thinks about it.

“So?” Sonny asks. Barba looks at him, dressed in a not-so-cheap suit with his hair gelled back.

“I think…maybe… if we can’t figure anything out, it’s a sign we need to reconsider our options.”

Sonny stares at him, wide eyed. His face turns red, and he can feel his blood start to boil. Because he can’t believe he just said that, so calm, so collected. Sonny’s breathing gets hard, and his face is betraying him. But before either one of them can say anything, he storms out of their apartment. The door slams so hard that Rafael feels it shake the bed.

And Rafael knows he can’t be mad, because he’s the one that said it. But only because he had no idea what else to say.

****

What follows is an entire day of radio silence. Barba expects as much, even though what started this was Sonny worrying about where he was. But he comes home early that night, stepping through the door a little after ten. Sonny glances up, but doesn’t say hello.

That’s what disturbs Rafael the most. The quiet. No laughter, no quick minded remarks, no conversation about their days. But this quiet, the one laced with resentful anger, worries Rafael deeply. This is not their usual companionable silence. If he didn’t know better, Rafael might try to start conversation, breaking the ice between them. But Sonny’s face shows just how horrible an idea that is. Every noise Barba makes gets him a glare. They’re strong enough to keep Barba quiet.

There’s dinner, there’s a few hours in front of the television, and then there’s their bed, where Sonny stays solely on his own side. Barba can’t admit he can’t sleep without Sonny in his arms. It’s why he has to Benadryl himself to sleep.

When he comes out of his drugged sleep, it’s to the sound of his alarm, screaming for him to wake up even though it’s quarter to six.

                And, a few seconds later, he realizes he’s alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glad to see all these kudos :)  
> Also, I never tried it before, but copying and pasting indents into Rich Text works. Very good to know.


	4. A Long Day

Barba’s never set any precedent for apologizing to people. Not at work, anyway, or he’d spend half his day apologizing. Today would be closer to three quarters than half. Every little thing puts another crack in his brittle nerves.

He has a few moments of clarity. One where he thinks, for a second, about sending something to Carisi at his office. Flowers, a card, chocolate, something. During another moment, he thinks he should bring whatever he wants to apologize with home, and hope Sonny comes home again tonight. In another moment, he checks his phone, even turning off the building’s Wi-Fi to be sure it’s not interfering with him receiving any messages. But none of the ones he gets are from the one person he wants to talk to.

A little after eleven, he picks up his phone.

“Barba.” His own name sounds like a threat.

“It’s Liv. We’re going to help out Haley Dean, remove her and the kids from the home and escort them to her mother’s, then sit tight for a few hours. Thought you should know.”

Who’s we? That’s what he wants to ask.

“Keep me posted.” And she clicks off. Probably her and Fin. Fin knows what he’s doing. Wouldn’t let anything bad happen. He figures a half hour to get to wherever Haley Dean is, and another half hour to hour to get her to her mother’s home. So Barba figures if Liv or Fin give him a call within the hour, he’ll be fine. Which is fine, because he has three phone calls to make, and one meeting to attend. He expects somewhere in there to get a call, a text, or a message through Carmen that they did what needed to be done.

But nothing does. In fact, when Barba looks up and realizes the time, he takes a moment and calls Carmen’s desk.

“Yes boss?”

“Any words from Lieutenant Benson?”

“None that I’ve received-“

“Okay, thank you.”

She’s definitely getting something to make up for his behavior today. He’ll figure out what later. He dials Benson’s number, but it goes straight to voicemail. Her guesses her phone is dead, so he lets it go. Surely all it is is a dead phone.

It’s after another half hour that he realizes, in another split second, why Sonny freaked out the way he did over not getting a hold of him. He sighs, just for a second, giving himself that release. And a long pull to empty his coffee cup.

His cell chimes, and he picks it up before checking the number.

“Barba.”

“Barba, it’s Fin. Liv and Carisi are headed to the hospital now-“

“Hospital?” No, that can’t be.

“The hostage situation turned, looks like-“

“Hostage? When did this become a hostage situation?”

“Nobody called you? Damn, that’s too bad. Her and Carisi went to do the escort. Mom leaves first with the baby, dad takes the two kids and our guys. Things went south maybe five minutes ago. Liv’s in and out, but said Rick Dean hit breaking point and was about to kill the kids, and Carisi threw himself on the gun. They’re headed do Saint Vincent’s now.”

“I’ll be there as soon as possible. Thank you, Detective Tutuola.”

He tries to say something else, but Barba just hangs up.

Someone shot Sonny.

Someone shot Sonny.

Someone shot Sonny.

The words just echo around his head, with nothing to hold onto. An opinion without a fact to stand on. It can’t be real. Not possible. There’s no way-

Except there is. Because someone shot Sonny.

Maybe. Maybe Fin was wrong. He wasn’t the one in the house, maybe he wasn’t even at the scene? Maybe he was just at headquarters and heard it from Rollins or someone else. That has to be it. Even though he’s in a cab the hospital, he’s sure he’s wrong. Until his phone rings again.

“Hello, I’m calling for a Rafael Barba?”

“Speaking.”

“I’m calling from Saint Vincent’s hospital. You’re registered as the emergency contact for Dominick Carisi Jr. He came into our ER about five minutes ago and was rushed to emergency surgery.”

“I-I’m on my way.”

And there it is. The proof that this is real. That Fin knew what he was talking about, and that Carisi was shot so bad that he’s in surgery. Surgery. Sonny’s in surgery.

Someone actually shot Sonny.

Now the words sink in. His chest tightens, and something rises up in his throat, choking him worse than when he let a perp choke him in front of the whole courtroom. He can’t breathe. He has to roll down the window and work to take any kind of breath, while the thought takes hold. It seeps into him, and overpowers him.

Someone shot Sonny.

The same Sonny that didn’t say goodbye before leaving this morning.

The same Sonny that stayed up all hours of the night waiting for him to come home, and made him dinner if he asked nice enough. Or even just asked. Man, he didn’t even always need to ask.

Someone shot Sonny, and he might not come home because of it.

He chokes on a breath, realizing how true this is. That Sonny might never come home. Might never get to become an ADA or be married or have children, or do any of the other things he said he wanted when it was late at night.

Barba barely has it in him to swipe his credit card when they get to the hospital. He walks quickly, pushing his way through people, not caring about the people that yell at him or call him a jerk. All he can think about is getting to Sonny, who’s still in surgery. The thought that he should ask Olivia what happened dawns on him, but it’s washed away by the waves of someone shooting Sonny.

His mind runs wild with anxieties. Part of him is planning Sonny’s funeral, while the other nags that nobody would possibly know about their relationship, so he wouldn’t get any say in the matter. He’s not sure which one makes his head hurt worse.

He can’t sit still, waiting for Sonny to come back anymore. So he does what he thought about doing in the first place, and goes to find the Lieutenant.

She’s awake, with an ice pack to her face, laid up in a bed. Her eyes go to him when he opens the door.

“Barba.”

“Benson.” He says stiffly. She pulls herself up to look at him while still icing her head.

“We went in thinking things would be okay. Then Rick Dean comes home through the back door, just as Haley leaves with the baby. And he wouldn’t let the kids go.”

He doesn’t talk. He wants to hear it from her now, to know what really happened.

“I had my shot. He stopped for a second, it looked like he had seen something. But I hedged, and when I went after him, he rushed me. I fell, hit my head on the coffee table. Carisi…he tackled Dean before he could shoot his son. They rushed in, took Sonny right out.”

A sick chill washes over Barba, and he has to sit down. He can see it in his head. He can see Carisi tackling the creep they know as Rick Dean and taking a bullet for a kid.

And the next step isn’t much of a leap. Because he can imagine Carisi’s funeral, and people hailing him as a hero. Just like Dodds…

“I’m sorry, Barba. He wasn’t supposed to go. I was going to take Fin, but he volunteered.”

That makes his stomach turn, and he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“But you came. That’s what matters.”

“Of course I came. What kind of person would I be if I didn’t?” He snaps. She blinks a few times at his comments, but doesn’t speak.

“He needs to be okay, Liv.”

“He will be, I’m sure. He’s a tough guy-“

“No, you don’t understand. He needs to be okay. He needs to wake up. If he doesn’t…” He can’t tell her what he said. Now that he thinks about his words, they sound so cold and callous.

“He will.” She repeats, softer now. He rubs his temples, and forces himself up, leaving before he can start crying in front of her. The only person Rafael cries in front of is Sonny.

Sonny.

Sonny, who someone put a bullet into. A bullet meant for a child.

Sonny, who comes back from surgery looking washed out. The usual slight flush to his snowy skin is gone. Any of the pink in his hands is gone as well. He looks green, sickly. Unhuman.

The doctor says his color should come back as the blood starts circulating, even though he lost a lot of it. The bullet tore his femoral artery, which Rafael knows from his ten minutes of medical education is essential, and damaging it is a sure fire way to kill someone.

Someone almost killed Sonny.

“Sonny.” Rafael whispers his name once they’re alone. His hand reaches over to Sonny’s, but his skin is cold and it gives Barba the creeps.

“Sonny…Sonny, please don’t…don’t, okay? Sonny, you can’t…you can’t die. Think of all the things you didn’t get to do yet.”

Rafael’s voice trembles as he pulls his seat closer to the bed in the small ICU room. “Sonny, you can’t leave yet. You have to wake up. You have to know that I love you. I need to be able to tell you, one more time. God, that sounds horrible, but you know what I mean. You have to wake up. You just have to. I…I love you. You know that, but maybe you weren’t so sure the past few days.”

A sick feeling pushes against Rafael’s stomach, and he has to put his head down for a moment.

“Please wake up, mi amor.” He murmurs, next to their intertwined hands on the mattress. “Te adoro, Sonny. Te adoro mucho.”

He can’t stop the tears that start seeping into the hospital sheets. Or the ones that fall against Sonny’s hand when he presses his lips against the slowly warming limb, over and over again.

The sleep deprivation from the day before catches Rafael off guard, and drags him down to sleep, bent over the temporary bed. But it’s a fitful sleep. Every so often, for a few seconds, his eyes open and he remembers where he is, only to realize Sonny is still out, and he’s dragged back once again. It’s when the hand that’s in his starts moving that he sits upright.

Sonny’s eyes flicker, and his heart rate picks up, but not to a troubling speed.

“Sonny…Sonny, mi amor, wake up. Please…” he pleads, clutching his warm hand tighter.

His eyelids pull back, carefully, and he lets out a groan.

“Sonny?” Rafael asks carefully. His soft blue eyes are bloodshot.

Gently, he squeezes Rafael’s hand back.

“Sonny, Sonny, Sonny…” He repeats the name, and the tears fight their way out before he can stop them. “Oh Sonny, Sonny I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry.”

“Rafe…”

Barba doesn’t wait. “Sonny, please, you need to know this. I love you, so much. I’m sorry I ever made you sound like any other ‘option.’ I’m sorry I didn’t make this right before. I’m sorry I didn’t fix this. But I love you and I’m sorry.” He chokes on his breath. “Sonny…someone shot you. Y-You could’ve-“

“Shhh.” Sonny musters, and his free hand reaches over to touch his face. “C’mere.”

He stands up out of his chair, moving closer until their faces are right next to one another. His lips are chapped when they press against Rafael’s. He kisses back slightly, his heart still hammering in his chest because he can’t believe Sonny is alive again.

“I’m sorry too.” He murmurs against Barba’s lips, but the older man shakes his head.

“Let’s forget about it.”

“Forgotten.” Sonny smiles a smile that Rafael feels more than he sees. It drops after a second. “C-Could you get me some water?”

“Water. Yes, yes I can get water.” He presses a kiss to Sonny’s forehead, and leaves briskly. He finds, nestled in a corner of the unit, a kitchen complete with Styrofoam cups, straws, lids, and an ice machine. He fills one cup with ice and one half with ice, the rest of the way with water. Nobody tells him he can’t. Nobody else speaks to him until he’s walking back to Sonny’s room, and he runs into Fin.

“Counselor?”

“Detective.” Barba says, and clears his own rough throat. “How’s the Lieutenant?”

“They’re letting her go in a few. I’m on my way to see Carisi. You know if he’s up yet?”

“Yes, I do. He’s awake, actually, and on the lucid side.”

“Uh huh.” The other man gives him a once over. “He was in rough shape before, I heard.”

“He was. But, such is the territory with getting shot. For the moment, he seems okay. I’ll buzz a doctor, get them to look at him. You can come see Carisi, just don’t overwhelm him.”

“Think I can handle that.”

“Good, walk with me.”

When Carisi sees Fin, a smile spreads over his tired, still pale face. He holds a hand out for a fist bump. “Fin.”

“Carisi.” He returns the gesture. “My man. You did good today.”

“Hey, come on, you’d do the same. Guy was gonna kill his kid, couldn’t let it happen.”

“You jumped in front of a gun, man. ‘S what Liv said, anyway.”

“Like I said, he was going for his kid. Couldn’t let it happen. Sides, I can handle the extra damage, I’ll bounce back.”

Fin actually laughs. Barba doesn’t think it’s funny, but he just stays quiet in his chair, trying not to star too closely at Carisi while he sips his water.

“Man, you’re a little off your nut aren’t you?”

And Sonny laughs back, a tough sound to make. “Yeah, well, you know. Kinda helps with this job. And if I wasn’t before, a couple years with you all sure did the trick.”

They laugh again, and Barba pretends to look at his phone instead.

“Well, hopefully the ADA over here will keep you a little more sane. I’m gonna take off. Still, good work today. Take it easy for a while.”

“I don’t think I’ve got a whole lotta choice.” He tried raising his voice, but coughs. Then laughs over his cough. And has to take a sip of water. Finn laughs, and throws a goodbye to both of them before heading out. Once he’s gone, Sonny takes a few long pulls from his cup.

“Thank you.” Sonny says, looking at him fondly.

“Of course. We should get a doctor in here. I’m sure you have a call button somewhere. And…should you call your parents?”

Sonny sighs, and coughs, and takes another sip of his water. “Do we have to?”

“Probably. I’m sure they’ll find out, if you get some sort of medal for this. And I bet they’ll be annoyed if they didn’t know.”

“I guess. Can you call them?”

“Me? Why would I be calling your parents?”

“Oh, come on, work with me here. Can’t you make up some legal reason for it?”

“No. Sorry. Fresh out of those.”

Still, Sonny chuckles. “Fine. Since you won’t, I guess I’ll have to.”

“Wait.” Barba says when Sonny reaches out for his phone, and for a brief second Sonny looks hopeful. “Before you do that, let’s get your doctor in here. See if your femoral artery can handle your blood pressure going up that high.”

He huffs a laugh, and hits the button, calling the doctor in. The doctor remarks, after a few minutes, about how well Sonny seems to be doing despite his traumatic injuries. Still, even when the doctor tells him to ‘avoid stress’ Sonny can’t get Rafael to call his parents for him.

****

An hour after Sonny hangs up with his parents, they’re there at the hospital, along with Theresa, Gina, and Bella. Tommy, he figures, is probably home with the baby. With the full family piled into the room, plus Rafael, the space is overcrowded. And he can tell from the look a passing nurse gives to their room that they need to turn down the volume.

But he can’t tell Valerie Carisi, who’s leaving lip prints on every part of his face she can reach, that she needs to calm down. So he goes with Dominick Sr.

“We should probably keep the volume low, for the people around us.”

“What, you a doctor or something?” Gina replies with a smack of her gum.

“Hey, don’t be like that, Gee. He’s right, what if some poor kid is trying to sleep in the next room?”

“Some poor kid is trying to sleep in this room.” Sonny says in his regular voice.

“Hush your mouth, we’re worried sick about you.” Theresa scolds and smacks him in the arm, getting a smack from their mother Valerie.

“Don’t you dare touch my baby boy! He’s been hurt enough today.” She stoops to put her arms around her son’s shoulders once again. “Oh honey, don’t you worry, I won’t let your sisters beat up on you.”

“My little sisters, we’re talking about?” Sonny asks, and they laugh. But some of them sound forced.

“Well it’s a relief to see you alive. You were talking about being shot and all, I thought it was serious.” Bella says, and something makes Rafael want to snap at her. If only she knew. If only she’d seen him just after, when he was out of surgery, when he was sickly green and cold to the touch. “At least you were in good company.” She says, directly addressing Rafael, a first from this group. “You keepin’ an eye on him for us is so sweet of you.”

‘I didn’t do it for you’ he says to himself.

“I’m sorry, who’re you again?” Dominick Sr. says.

“Assistant District Attorney Rafael Barba.” He introduces himself like any other time, and shakes the older man’s hand. This man who looks like an older version of Sonny. Sonny with greying hair and a slight roundness to his stomach, and a habit of holding his back after standing for more than a few minutes.

“Oh. Good to know you. How’d you know about this?”

“I was involved in the case that led to the shooting. It’s imperative I’m kept in the loop, especially in situations like this. I’ll have to go and add the charge of attempted murder to his list once I’m done here.”

“Ooh, listen to you.” Gina says, and flips her hair back. “All fancy lawyer talk. Sonny, is that what you’re gonna sound like when you become a real lawyer?”

“I’m already a real lawyer, Gee, thanks for asking though.”

“Well, I think we’ve got it now.” Bella offers. “We’ll stay here with him for a while, you know. You should go do all your important lawyer things.”

“Probably.” He agrees and gets up from the chair, and pulls on his wrinkled suit jacket, which he buttons for emphasis. “Speak soon, Detective Carisi.”

“Yeah, you too Counselor.” He says. But When Rafael looks at him, he can see what he’s asking.

‘Please don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me with these people. Don’t make me lie to them.’

But he has to go. After all, he is still the lead prosecutor on this case, and he does need to add charges.

It’s a perfectly good excuse to leave and come back much later, when he’s sure the family will be on their way home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very pleased with the reception this story is receiving!  
> I'm not finished writing part two yet, so depending on when the last chapter of this is posted I might post a new chapter every 15 or 20 kudos for the next one. Also, that one will be a little longer, a little more drawn out. I hope you guys are enjoying this story as much as I enjoyed writing it.  
> As always, comments and kudos are welcome.


	5. An Early Evening

Of course, Sonny is given time away from work. A whole month of paid leave, where his days are spent doing physical therapy, watching TV, and getting bored without the job. He gets so bored that he ends up watching a crime drama daily, just to keep himself sharp. Rafael insists that those shows are trash and they’ll end up hurting Sonny’s real detective abilities. Sonny doesn’t think so, though. Besides, he usually has them figured out before the show is over.

Sonny needs help though. He can’t stand long enough to cook a meal, stairs are a total bitch, and whenever he walks he needs a cane. It forces Rafael to leave at 8 every night, and take a bit of his work home too. But really, he doesn’t mind. It’s to take care of Sonny, who survived being shot. If the walking impediment and the constant bitching about the pain weren’t enough of a reminder, the ugly scar on his thigh is. Rafael sees it every night when he helps Sonny into the shower, and sits him down on the bench. The first few days, Rafael had to do all the work himself. Now he just waits next to the shower, with a towel over his shirt and Sonny’s robe in his hand.

Rafael doesn’t mention how sore he is that first week of half-carrying Sonny in and out of the shower. He doesn’t mention how this reminds him of helping his abuelita, either.

“You okay?” Sonny asks. Barba looks up from his place at their drawers.

“Doing okay. Why?”

“You’ve been staring at my pajamas for a few minutes. You gonna hand ‘em to me, or do I need to come get ‘em myself?”

“No, don’t hurt yourself. Here” Barba hands him a pair of sweatpants and an oversized Rangers t-shirt.

“Thanks.” Sonny threads himself through his shirt. Rafael watches, waiting to see if he needs help. He’s learned how to change his clothes without moving his leg too much, with a combination of putting all the weight on his good leg, when he needs to, and balancing on the edge of the bed.

“Impressive.” Barba comments, a warmth to his voice. Sonny beams.

“Yeah, I know. Hey, you wanna help me get into bed?”

Again, he doesn’t mind it, really. He helps the younger man lay back comfortably, then hands him the remote. Which, to his surprise, he sets aside.

“No crime drama tonight?”

“Nah, spent all day watching that show. I wanna talk though.”

“To me?”

“No, the drywall, but I don’t mind if you’re there to hear it. Yeah, with you. C’mon” he points to Barba’s side of the bed “sit.”

He’s taken a little by that, but complies anyway. He sits with Carisi, so he’s facing the younger man, and crosses his legs.

“So, that argument we had. The one that we said we’d forget about. I’m glad you haven’t, like, brought it up again or anything. But things are still the way they were.”

“How so?”

“Getting shot didn’t change anything. I mean, it changed how I thought about things, but not that our problems still exist.”

“Okay. And?”

Sonny sighs and pushes a hand through his damp hair.

“Y’know…I can handle it, with my family and all. With them not knowing. For now, anyway. But there’s some people I can’t lie to anymore.”

“Like who?”

“Well….alright, Benson already knows, right?”

“Right.”

“So, in theory, if we told people at SVU, it wouldn’t be that huge a deal, would it?”

“In theory, yes.”

“Don’t lawyer talk me here. Yes or no.”

“Yes, most likely, yes.”

“Well, I think that’s what we gotta do. Because I’m so sick of lyin’.”

“Okay. Fair enough. Who do you want to start with?”

****

It’s a little after eight when there’s a knock on the door, and it takes a minute for Caisi to make it to the door. When he opens it, he beams.

“Look at you two. I didn’t know Jesse would be tagging along.”

“Someone wanted to see their uncle Sonny. Too bad she pretty much fell asleep on the way here.” Amanda says, and reaches in to hug him. Sonny hugs her back tight, squishing Jesse between them.

“God, look at you.” She says when he pulls away, and watches him hobble. “Can’t believe you’re walking again.”

“Yeah, well y’know, just muscle damage. No hit to the bone. Kinda stuff that’s fixed with physical therapy. They got a girl coming to see me every few days, helping men out. And it works.”

“Look at you, walking and entertaining women. You’re on a roll.” She teases. He laughs, and lowers himself onto the sofa, then holds his arms open for Jesse. Gently, Amanda places her against his side, and he pulls a blanket over her, and himself. Jesse burrows against his side, and Sonny can’t help chuckling.

“She’s too precious. And she’s getting so big.”

“Sure is. You look so sweet with her like that, all curled up.” Amanda comments, and sits next to them, but in a way that she can look at them both.

“Yeah, I know.” He says, and tucks the blanket tighter around the snoozing toddler.

“So, why’d you call me over here Sonny?”

“What, can’t a guy have his partner over? Hell, it’s been two weeks since I’ve seen you. And it’s been probably a moth since I’ve seen the little one.”

“Fair enough. How’re you doing though? You holding up okay?”

“Hey, those kids got out alive, perp got out alive, the Lieu only got body checked. Besides me, it tuned out good. Trust me, I sleep okay at night. I sleep with a pain in my leg, but it’s one I can bear.”

“It’s good, hearing you talk like that. Makes me more sure that you’re coming back.”

“Ain’t no bullet gonna stop me. Just slow me down.” He says, and plays with the edge of the blanket. “Still, kinda makes me think about doing the whole lawyer thing. But there’s no safety there. I mean, look at what happened with Barba, people threatening to kill him.”

“Guess we didn’t chose the safest line of work, huh?” She laments, her gaze drifting from Caisi’s cane over to her daughter.

“No. We didn’t.” He takes a breath. “Listen, Rollins…there’s something I haven’t told you.”

She stops and looks at him full on, and moves closer carefully, even though she’s on the side of his non-injured leg. “Okay…”

“So…there’s….” Sonny has to wrack his brain for some great way to explain himself. Even with that law degree, he can’t string together a good enough sentence to explain this. “I don’t live here alone.”

That’s a start.

“You…what?”

“No, I don’t. I live here with someone.”

“Sonny…who?” She sounds a little scared. A little like she wants to take Jesse out of the room, so she doesn’t wake up to her mother yelling. He swallows.

“See the mantel over there?” He tilts his head. She gets up, goes over to them. He doesn’t watch her face, just hears the way her breath stops for a few seconds.

“So…Barba?” She asks, turning back to him. He nods, looking down at Jesse instead. “How long?”

“Been here about six…seven…maybe more like eight months. Wow. Our apartment could’ve been a baby born by now.” He laughs stiffly. “But we’ve had something for a year and a half now.”

“A year and-“ She stops before she can get mad. Instead she stops, puts a hand over her mouth, and takes a few deep breaths. Then, she sits beside him again. “Why didn’t you tell me? We’re partners, aren’t we?”

“We are. I just…I didn’t know what you’d think of me.”

“Because of you being with a guy?”

“Because it’s Barba. You know, the pitbull of sex crimes with a comeback for everything you’ve gotta say. I just didn’t know, I had no way of knowing. Didn’t want you thinking less of me, out there on the job.”

“I couldn’t. Hell, you’re my partner, Carisi. You’re SVU. You’re…family. How could I think less of you?”

“When things started, I was still kinda new. I didn’t want to be the one to screw things up by sleeping with our ADA. It was all so new, I didn’t know how to act.”

“Wait, so, nobody knows?”

“Not nobody. Liv knows, his mom knows…guess that’s about it.”

“Not even your family?”

He shrugs. “My parents are good Catholics. And my sisters, I love em to death, but I never know if they’re coming or going. One day one of ‘em says they’re best friends with a drag queen, next day they say they don’t understand how men raping men is a thing when I talk to em. Even I got that.” He shakes his head, and kisses Jesse’s forehead. “It’s just safer, not telling them. Yet. But they’ll know.”

“When?”

“When they need to. When we want ‘em to. Not until then.”

She sighs and shakes her head, just as the front door opens. And there’s Barba, standing in Sonny’s apartment- which Rollins now realizes is Barba’s apartment too- with an armful of groceries. He stands there for a second, taking in the scene.

“Oh…detective Rollins.”

“Don’t worry Rafe, she already knows.” Sonny tells him, which gets a relieved sigh out of Barba.

“Oh good, I don’t have the energy for pretenses. Here you go.” He comes over and puts a pastry box on the table in front of Sonny. He leans over, as much as he can, and grins.

“You know me so well. Rollins, you want one?” he asks, looking up from the box of cannoli.

“Oh come on, you trying to fatten me up?.”

“What? I just don’t want Jesse having a skinny mom, that’s all.”

“Jesse isn’t breastfeeding anymore. I don’t think she minds.”

“Hey, come on partner, don’t make me eat alone.”

“Fine, fine, let me get some plates first.” She relents, and goes off to the kitchen. Barba is putting away groceries when she comes in.

“So, you and Sonny.” She tries, feeling like she should say something now. Barba glances at her, then shrugs.

“What about us?”

“You’d never know it, from the way you two work together, still so professional.”

“We’ve gotten very good at keeping our work lives separate from our personal lives. Besides, you know how Sonny is. He’s worth it.”

That stops her short. She was waiting for a quip, a jab, not that.

“Do you want a drink, Detective?” Barba offers, unphased

“No, no I’m alright. So, a year and a half. That’s impressive.”

“It hasn’t been easy. But I refer you to my earlier statement.”

“It’s nice, knowing he hasn’t been alone though all this. That’ he’s had someone like you to help him out.”

“Someone like me? Like what, exactly?”

“Just, you know, understanding and smart and-“

“Relax, detective. I’m just messing with you. Go, bring him your plates.”

Barba sighs to himself once he’s gotten rid of her. Knowing that she knows, it’s unnerving, having someone else in their private space other than Liv and Noah.

But Sonny’s laugh makes his heart leap a little. That sound he was sure he would never hear again. He comes back to find the two of them already halfway through the box, their faces creased into smiles, with Jesse curled down between them.

“That poor kid, listening to two conflicting accents. I’m not sure which one’s worse.”

There it is. A welcoming insult.

“Hey.” She chides, but chuckles anyway. “Y’know what? I think I’ll take you up on that drink now, Counselor.”


	6. An Evening of Freedom

Their little apartment doesn’t have a table big enough for six people to sit at, so dinner is served in the living room. Even if Amaro hadn’t showed up, and Sonny was sure he wouldn’t since he’s only in town for a week, there still wouldn’t be enough room at their table.

“So, really? A year and a half?” Their old team member asks. Sonny laughs and lowers himself onto the couch next to Barba.

“Yeah, a year and a half.”

“For an office full of detectives, you sure do miss things.” Barba comments while sprinkling cheese over his plate.

“I still say it’s a lie. You two have always been way too cool around each other to be a couple.” Fin puts in from his place on the other sofa.

“Hey, come on, you’ve seen me undercover, you know I can act.” Sonny justifies. It makes Barba smile slightly. It’s a look the group has seen a disproportionate number of times today.

“Well, we can use those acting skills when you come back.” Rollins says from the floor, with her plate on the coffee table. Sonny sighs.

“Please, I’m probably gonna be on desk duty when I come on back. Don’t think the Lieu’s going to have me running after bad guys for a while.”

“You don’t need to run after them to be helpful.” Olivia answers.

“Yes, filing paperwork is very helpful to maintaining order in the criminal justice system.” Barba adds, and Sonny rolls his eye.

“Oh yeah, can’t wait for that.” He pulls himself up out of his seat and wanders into the kitchen.

“Man, look at this guy.” Fin shakes his head. “Already walking around.”

“Hey, come on, like I’m lettin’ some nut with a gun stop me? Doctor said I’ll be fine soon enough.”

“Really?” Rollins asks, looking at Barba. The older man shrugs.

“Something like that. She said she’ll re-evaluate in two weeks, and see if Sonny can get back to work.”

“Hey, she started off by saying six weeks and I can go back to work.” Sonny limps back in with a new can of soda (beer being off limits for now), and lowers himself into his seat again, being sure not to put weight on his bad leg. “I’m holding her to it.”

“Don’t push it, Sonny. Nobody’s pushing you to go back.” Rafael reassures.

“Yeah, except me. Because I wanna go back to work, and get the hell out of this apartment.”

“Oh, wow, real nice.” Barba plays hurt. “What, getting sick of me so soon?”

“Aw, would ya stop?” Sonny nudges against him, gently though, so nothing gets spilled. “Don’t take it so personal. I’m just sick of watching boring crime dramas on TV. I wanna be back in the work, getting my hands dirty, helping people. All that.”

“Fair enough. You want another portion?”

“Nah, stop, I’ll get it ”

“Don’t be like that, just sit here. I’ll be right back.” Rafael picks up Sonny’s plate, and his own, and heads back to the kitchen where the ziti is still warm in the oven. Still, Sonny follows after him, and leans against the counter, watching him dish out smaller second helpings.

“You don’t gotta do that, Rafe. I can handle carrying a plate now that I kicked the cane.”

“Just be careful, okay?” He stands up, looking at him earnestly. “You’re moving around so much.”

“What? I’m just excited to see my friends again, I’ve missed ‘em all. It’s nice, not having to hide anything like that now.”

“I have to say, I feel the same. It’s nice to know we have our own loving family here.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. Bella keeps bugging me, saying she wants to bring the baby over.”

“What? You can have her over.”

“Yeah, but then I’ll have to explain when I got this place and I don’t feel like taking down our pictures. It’s a whole big thing.”

“Wouldn’t you feel better, not having to hide at all?”

“Don’t. They’ll know when they need to know.”

“When will that be?”

Sonny shrugs. “When they get a wedding invite.”

Barba chokes on his refilled glass of scotch, which he sets down right away. “Is that” he coughs “your subtle way or proposing?”

Sonny smirks. “Nah, no way. You” he puts his arms around Barba’s waist “you’re gonna know when I propose. It’s not gonna be done for some cheap shock. It’s gonna be romantic, with flowers and candles, and dinner, and then I’m gonna get down on one knee and all that. So, you know, give me a few months for that.”

Barba shakes his head, his smile widening. “Did you just give away you proposal game plan?”

“Maybe. Who the hell knows? I might change my mind, surprise you. But whatever it is, it’s gonna be just as freakin’ romantic as what I imagined.”

“Who says you get to be the one to propose?”

“Says me.”

“Says you?”

“Yeah, says me.”

“I can see where your lawyer skills come from.”

Sonny tips his head back and laughs “Shut up.”

But before Barba can respond, their lips meet for a kiss. For a moment the living room filled with their friends doesn't exist. It’s just the two of them. Two of the luckiest people in the world, Sonny is sure.

If Barba heard what Sonny was thinking, he’d agree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap for part one! First chapter of part two will be up either today or tomorrow.   
> Kinda short ending, but fitting for the tone of this story.

**Author's Note:**

> Entries are lightly edited.  
> Names are inconsistent in use.  
> Constructive criticism is appreciated.  
> If someone could tell me how to use HTML to make this story double spaced as well as how to indent, please let me know.


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